Nature's Rhythm

Saddens when strength fritters, muscles run to flab with age; a once smooth surface wrinkles bold etchings of joy and sorrows while rough landscape seizes the trophy, buries beauty beneath creases and squinting eyes and drooping girth and jarring joints. Look at a mirror—you're yet you at heart though reflection feigns. Beauty is forever, not strength, not health. Life has a bell-shaped trajectory—a sure-fire sine curve, though the sonic boom pales at prime. Blurred vision fails to see the diminishing present or the long haul ahead; ought to, and so cuddle the rhythm, bound up to breast the finish line. Else gamble at summer's crest; winter in the trough with a wobble. What an old age with sighs and stings, peace paling with aching joints and flabby muscles! Robbed of youthful verve, a pain prick twitches the nerves. What a youth spent as if now's forever! We all need a brace ahead of when the frail frame fails at nine or ninety... or in between! The wise may think otherwise. Maybe!! The pudding has proof. All I know: Old age is divine! © Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi 4 February, 2019